


Texts with Toto

by findmyparadise



Series: Texts with Toto [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: F/M, Self-Insert, Sexting, Some Slight Daddy Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29462565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/findmyparadise/pseuds/findmyparadise
Summary: Sending texts to Toto while he’s trying to work may end up getting you into a bit of trouble.
Relationships: Torger "Toto" Wolff/Reader, Torger "Toto" Wolff/You
Series: Texts with Toto [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164044
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	Texts with Toto

  


You’ve just greeted George who is up next for your series of pre-race interviews when your phone - the personal one that’s tucked in your back pocket, not the official work cell that’s currently in your hand with your prepared questions ready to go - vibrates. Everyone who knows you know that you’re currently working, so it’s not likely that the message is important but George has stepped away from you and your camera man to speak to one of his mechanics in the Mercedes garage a few feet away so you allow yourself a moment to see what’s so important that it can’t wait until after the Grand Prix.

 **Toto Wolff:** iMessage

You try not to grin at seeing his name pop up on the screen, mostly because you know he’s not far away in the Mercedes garage, likely watching you conduct the interviews of his drivers before the race and you’d like to maintain some form of professionalism in the paddock. Beginning whatever this relationship was with Toto had been an accident but you weren’t complaining - the two of you just worked together, physically, despite the many differences that existed between you.

Sometimes it was the differences that made things that much better. For one, Toto was older than you, and although it probably shouldn’t have been such a turn on, his experience, demeanor, and mature personality made the years between you seem inconsequential. It was cliche to say, but he just didn’t treat you the way boys your age did. The way he cared for you - physically and emotionally - was selfless, wild and relentless. Toto was also exponentially taller than you and you couldn’t help but be constantly astounded by the size difference between you. Sure, it made some sex positions difficult, but that never stopped the two of you. 

You had been hooking up with him casually, when the rapid-pace race season permitted it. Throughout the Grand Prix weekend, he was always busy and so were you. Sneaking one another into a small hotel room on a floor where other coworkers could potentially be staying as well was a bit of a gamble, but it was always worth it. It wasn’t that your jobs prohibited you from having relations; you were just still relatively new to the F1 media scene and didn’t want to fuck it all up by making it obvious that you were sleeping with one of the team principles. 

You glance up and around you before swiping across to read the message, ensuring that George hasn’t yet wandered back to begin the interview.

**I like that lipstick on you. Think it would look even better smeared all over my cock.**

The gasp that escapes you is loud enough that your cameraman turns to you from shooting B-roll with a raised eyebrow. 

“I’m good, sorry. Nothing to worry about, I’ll be just a second.” He turns away and you try to force your hammering heart to slow down just a bit. It’s so like Toto to pull this when you’re both working and can’t do anything about it; he loves teasing you and knows how worked up he can get you with just a phrase or look. The race and post-race activities will last for hours and he’s started something now that you won’t let end until you’re a combined satisfied, sweaty mess of limbs wrapped up in hotel bedsheets.

Although he’s not paying you any attention now, you grin in his direction, letting your eyes wander to what you can see of him from where you’re standing as he speaks to one of the race engineers. He’s seated in front of one of the many computer screens that line the garage so all that is truly visible of him is his head, broad shoulders, and his arms that are folded across his chest, long fingers resting lightly on his biceps. He catches your eye as you look him over once again and he winks, _the bastard_ , and you can feel yourself flush a bit, the attraction to him strong and steady despite the danger of being in your literal shared workplace.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as you gently bite your lip and turn back to your phone to craft a response. You can feel his eyes stay on you as you think for a few seconds before your fingers fly quickly across the screen and send the message, turning to face George once again as he approaches, a professional smile on your face working hard to cover up your obviously flustered appearance.

“So, George, after a wild first season here with the Mercedes team, what do you hope to accomplish in the last race of the year?”

Toto’s phone vibrates on the table in front of him and he has to try to quell the grin that’s already forming. He knows you and he knows how you respond to him, and the idea alone of this banter beginning while you both attempt to work through this final Grand Prix of the season has him half hard already. 

He groans to himself reading your message, quickly locking the screen and hoping no one notices his obvious discomfort. He works to catch your eye as your interview George but you’re the epitome of composed and focused as you work your way through your questions. _What a minx,_ he thinks, opening the message to read the words once more.

**I like your hands. Think they’d look better wrapped around my neck though.**

Toto watches you interview George for a moment, admiring the way you hold yourself with such poise in the paddock. When you had started with Sky Sports halfway through the season prior, many had assumed that you’d be quickly overwhelmed in the male-dominated sport, even though there had been female interviewers that had easily held their own on the tracks, they had eclipsed your experience by many years. You had been, for a lack of better team, fresh meat. Toto couldn’t help but be thankful that it had been Natalie who had so heavily fought for you to be her successor - he knew how difficult it could be to break into the world of motorsports and how that difficulty was only multiplied by the factor of gender, age, and experience. Natalie had been a great influence on you and he could tell that your career within motorsports would be one that was long and successful.

His phone vibrates again in his hand and he startles, having been lost in his own thoughts. He looks up to find you gone, having moved on to conduct other interviews. It’s another message from you in the form of a video. It was a screen recording of the Sky Sports feed, the camera trained on him. He watches himself look up and seemingly my eye contact with the camera before winking. Of course the wink that was just meant for you had been captured by your cameraman and broadcast to the world. 

A message from you quickly follows the video.

**This is going to haunt me all fucking day. You did this on purpose.**

He chuckles and types a quick response.

**I love knowing that I have you strung out while you try to work.**

Your response takes a few moments to come through but when it does, the air leaves Toto’s lungs in a rush. It’s an image of you in your hotel room, seemingly from that morning, posing in front of a slightly steamy mirror, wearing a set of black strappy lingerie that Toto’s not seen on you before. Your hair is pulled into a towel and your face is obscured by the steam but he can make out your lips, covered in the same bright lipstick that you have on today. Toto has to swallow the persistent watering of his mouth.

Your message that accompanied the image is a word-for-word copy of Toto’s previous text and he loves how feisty you get with him. 

**You are going to regret that,** he sends in response. **You think my hands would look good on your neck? What if I leave prints of them all over your ass? I think someone needs to be reminded that it’s not polite to get the team principle hard just before the start of the race when nothing can be done about it.**

You know that Toto must be sitting smugly in the garage, thinking he’s gotten to you with his text. While it is true, you do think his hands look - and feel - wonderful when they’re wrapped around your neck, it’s also something else entirely when he’s punishing you in the best of ways for your attitude. Toto has a way with his hands, and you’re not one to complain about them being used in any way on you. It’s just so much fun to rile him up, you can’t help but continue this game that neither of you can currently physically act on. You briefly wonder if this is taking the teasing too far, if it’s going to jeopardize the performance of both of your jobs, but the thought leaves you when you realize how relentless Toto has been in the past in winding you up in the paddock with a sly comment or pointed look. You’d like for him, just for once, to be forced to sweat it out like he’s made you do so many times before.

You scroll back through the photo gallery in your phone, looking through the few other images that you’d taken in your mini-photoshoot that morning. You found the image you were thinking of and crafted the text, making sure to send it just before you knew Toto had team duties to complete so he wouldn’t be able to dwell on it like you knew he’d like to. 

The photo that you send is similar to the first but is a view of your body from the back, where the straps of the underwear criss and cross across the skin of your cheeks. 

**This ass? It’s all yours, Daddy.**

\---

“Congratulations George, wonderful race. How did it feel to take the podium once again with Lewis?”

The race had gone by nearly uneventfully, as most at the very end of a season did. While Mercedes had another dominating season as Lewis won his 8th Drivers’ Championship with the team winning yet another Constructor’s Championship. Part of that had to do with the expected brilliance of their newly-signed second driver, George Russell, who had, throughout the season, given Lewis a run for his money.

“Feels great. I’d rather be up there on that top step, but if it’s Lewis beating me, I’m alright with that. It’s been an incredible first season with Mercedes and I’m proud of what we’ve done. Great performance by the team, the guys seriously gave it their absolute all this season for us and I’m just really thankful for them. We wouldn’t be here without their hard work.”

“We’ve got a lot coming up next season -new engine regulations, schedule fluctuations, massive changes to the midfield teams - are you already looking forward to 2023?” you asked. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Toto approach the small broadcast area and let the grin on your face broaden a bit. 

“Ready for a vacation first, I think! Somewhere sunny and sandy maybe. Everyone’s been a bit on edge with it being the end of the season and everything that there is to anticipate next year. We’re all ready for a bit of a rest. Toto especially!” George gestures, seeing his boss off to the side. “You were a bit tense today, yeah? Just ready for a break?”

Toto looked you directly in the eyes and you could feel the blush creep up your cheeks and chest. 

“Ready for something,” he murmurs as he approaches the two microphone stands, just low enough for you to hear him. “Yes, George, definitely ready for a break, but at the same time I am excited to see all of what next season will have to offer us. I am looking forward to it.”

“Anything specific you’re looking forward to, Toto?” you ask as you turn to face him, trying to suppress a grin. 

“I think ending a season on a race win, with championships won, only helps increase the … anticipation for the next season. We have some great developments planned for next year. But, like George, I am ready for a break. Not sure what it was about this Grand Prix that has had me on edge, but I am ready to release some tension and relax a bit as well.” 

The last sentence was said directly to you, and the undertone of it was glaringly obvious - you had ruffled his feathers and somehow you suspected you wouldn’t be living it down any time soon.

“On edge? You’ve got two star drivers, a stellar team, both Championships locked down, and you were concerned about today’s race?”

Toto glares down at you, and for a moment you’re worried that you _have_ taken it too far, innocently teasing him during his post-race interview, but you can see the slight frustration mixed with amusement written all over face.

“Personal matter,” he dismisses with a slight wave of his large hand, looking everywhere but at you. “I just received some slightly surprising communication before the race that stuck in my mind. Nothing to worry about, it clearly didn’t detract from me performing my race day duties.”

“Glad to hear you didn’t let it get to you. How does the big boss man plan to unwind now that the season is over?” you ask Toto, taking a slight step towards him, almost forgetting that the interview you’re conducting is being broadcast live worldwide.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I definitely hope it involves a lot of alcohol and a big bed to sleep in. Maybe a nice, juicy-”

George quickly clears his throat, interrupting Toto’s train of thought with a smirk. 

“Steak, George; a nice, juicy steak.”

You turn back to George who now has a smug grin on his face. He nods at you, the movement almost unnoticeable but it makes you worry that your obvious attraction to Toto has been noticed. You press your shoulders down and back, determined to resume some semblance of professionalism so you can conclude the interview. 

“I have to agree with George, I think sun and sand and a drink in my hand will be the best way to relax this summer! George, what would you consider to be your biggest accomplishment this past season?”

George answers eloquently, as always, and you’re thankful for the easy resumption of your respective jobs. Toto towers next to you, adding comments to the second driver’s responses to your questions as he sees fit. A layer of desire still lingers between the two of you, as it almost always does. 

You reach to your neck to adjust the small pendant that rests at the base of your throat and watch as his eyes follow your hands. George continues telling you his story so you take a moment to feign a gentle massage, wrapping your hand around your neck, seemingly in an effort to alleviate an ache. 

The only ache exists between your legs thanks to the eye contact that Toto maintains with you as you show him exactly where you’d like him to place his hands. 

“... and then Lando shouted, ‘I wanted six _peaches_ , not six _leeches_!’”

Toto bursts out laughing like he’s been following the story the entire time and you can’t help but chuckle along with him.

“Well George, Toto, we wish you both the best in the off-season. Congratulations on all of the success this year, and we look forward to seeing you back in the paddock soon.”

“Thank you! Cheers!” George tosses a thumbs-up towards the camera before glancing at his watch and looking to Toto. 

“Brief in 30?”

“I’ll meet you over there, have a couple things to take care of first,” he responds, his eyes flicking towards you. 

George looks between you before rolling his eyes. “Got it. Have fun, you two. But not too much fun, yeah?”

“Bye George!” you say, trying to effectively end his meddling. “That’s my fault,” you say quietly after George is out of earshot. “I shouldn’t have been making googly eyes at you the entire time.”

“He’s known for awhile, I suspect,” he whispers back. “Can I borrow you for a moment?” His second sentence is a bit louder and you wave to the two cameramen as you step away and they turn back to their equipment. Toto reaches up to wrap his hand around your upper arm before dragging you away quickly. He glances around the empty area of the paddock you’ve always preferred for on-camera interviews before he pulls you around a corner into a small, secluded alcove. 

He presses your back against the wall and before you have a moment to process what he’s doing, his lips are on yours. One of his hands is at your lower back, urging your hips closer to his, and the other angles your jaw so he can kiss you just how he wants to. 

“Just had to do this,” he says against your lips before capturing them with his again. 

A small whine escapes you from the surprise of the sudden contact but you melt into him as he deepens the kiss. You welcome his tongue to tangle with yours until your mind suddenly registers his earlier words. You pull away quickly, panting already.

“What do you mean, ‘he’s known for a while’?!” 

“Shh,” he shushes you with a chuckle, brushing a kiss across your hairline. “He’s made a comment here and there, that’s all. I don’t mind. George is a good kid. Besides, I’m his boss - he can’t exactly hold it over me.”

“Big boss man,” you place your hands on his shoulders, really wishing that his white button down wasn’t in the way. You drag your nails down his chest and lean up onto your toes to press a kiss just under his jaw. A slight smudge of lipstick is left behind and you’re tempted to leave it there for everyone at the briefing to see. 

“What is it?” He peers down at you, a small smirk pulling at his now-stained lips. 

“Left my mark on you,” you say, reaching to wipe the color away. 

His hand captures your wrist before your fingertips can brush his skin. “Leave it. Maybe I want them to know I’m bringing you back to _my_ bed at the end of race day.”

“ _Are_ you bringing me back to your bed?” 

His grip on your wrist tightens and you whine, arching a bit at the increasing tension, wanting even more. “So easy for me,” he chides, watching you strain to touch him. “My room has a king bed and a gorgeous view.”

“Text me the room number then.” You peck his lips once more before stepping back away from him and smoothing your blouse. “And tell George I said hi.”

Toto rolls his eyes but nods. “Speaking of texts,” he says almost sternly, “you’re gonna pay for that little stunt you pulled earlier.” 

“What ‘little stunt’?

He steps towards you again, his height dwarfing yours as he towers over you. The only place at which his body touches yours is where his grip is still tight on your wrist. He leans down to brush a kiss to the point where your jaw meets your ear, knowing the feeling of his lips to that spot will make you gasp every time. To anyone looking at the two of you from the afar, it would only appear as though the older man was simply leaning in to ensure that you had heard something he’d said. You and he both knew it was anything but innocent.

His words were soft when he spoke. “Are you wearing that set now? Looked so pretty for me this morning in your pictures. Couldn’t stop wondering if you’d wear it here to work and make me want to take you behind the garage and show you how much I liked it.”

“No,” you whisper, his head still close enough that he would be able to hear you. “Would’ve been torture.”

“For you?” 

“For _you_ ,” you respond with a smirk.

“Little minx,” he growls, pressing another searing kiss to your jaw. “Wear it later. I think I deserve to see it in person.”

“You will. Goodbye, Mr. Wolff.” You turn and walk away, the excitement for later already bubbling beneath your skin. As you round the corner towards your office, you look back to see Toto standing where you had left him, shaking his head, his lips creeping into a smile.

You could already tell you were in for it.

\---

Thankfully, packing up the press box that you called an office for the weekend was easy. Technical equipment had already been packed away and all that was left for you to do was collect your belongings and you were free to escape to the hotel. 

You briefly wonder how long Toto would make you wait as you toss your purse and work tote on the small desk in the room. The briefing would be at the least an hour, not to mention the multitude of post-race responsibilities that existed for someone in the role that Toto held. 

You move to the bathroom to place your jewelry in their travel case when your phone dings a specific alert sound from its resting place. You wonder if - among his many other abilities - he’s psychic and knew you were thinking about him.

**Wear those high heels you always bring too.**

You have to laugh at his one-track-mind though you can’t help but be flattered that it’s seemingly you that is all he can think about while he’s meant to be working. 

You dig the high heels out of your bag because he’s right, you do always bring them. There’s nothing that makes you feel sexier than a pair of strappy black heels, even if they are just worn with a simple dress to a quick hotel lobby dinner, or worse, while lounging around a hotel room by yourself on the few Grand Prix weekends Toto isn’t available. 

You slip the heels on with the outfit you’d worn to the track - the heels were your favorite but they just weren’t practical for running around on race day. They were, however, perfect for driving Toto mad. 

You snap a quick photo of the shoes in a full length mirror attached to the closet door, your legs elongated by the height. You send the image and quickly follow it with a caption. 

**These heels?**

He’ll know immediately that you’re playing coy, wanting to wind him up during his meeting, and he’s absolutely right. You would happily admit that this was part of the fun of this relationship that you and Toto had developed - each one taking their turn to drive the other wild. It always resulted in passionate encounters that left you both sated and satisfied. In a world where legitimate, loving relationships were hard to come by, having someone to have fun with eased a lot of pressure for both parties involved. It helped too that Toto was precisely your type - devastatingly handsome, wise and mature, and absolutely and completely in control. It was in the moments that you got to intimately experience his loss of control that you cherished, even if the fallout of it was directed at your backside in the form of spankings. 

You lean your hip against the sink counter as you respond to messages you’d missed during the race. Your phone vibrates in your hand as Toto’s name flashes across the top of the screen. 

**Yes.**

The bubble that signifies Toto is typing another message appears and you wait with baited breath. You hadn’t necessarily planned to play this game while he continued to work, but if he wanted it, he would get it in spades. 

**Has anyone told you lately that you have incredible legs?**

You laugh out loud at his flattering question, knowing very well it has been _him_ telling you that recently, and type out a quick response before kicking the heels off. 

**I’ve heard that once or twice.**

His response is just as fast. **From whom?**

**From the only man that matters.**

He doesn’t respond right away so you begin to undress, eager to wash away a day at the racetrack before seeing him again. You wrap a towel around your body and take an innocent looking picture of your legs from the waist down, showing off where the towel rests high on your things. You type an accompanying text before pressing send. 

**Wish you were here - this shower is big enough for the both of us.**

You couldn't help but luxuriate in it a bit after having spent the day outdoors on your feet surrounded by the scent of burnt rubber and exhaust fumes. The shower had removed all of the day’s grime but you know a bit of body lotion and spritz of perfume will be the icing on top.

A response from him is waiting for you when you exit the shower, fingers pruny from what was probably an excessive use of hot water. 

**Remember the last time we showered together?**

You laugh to yourself again because it had been a disaster. Given your height difference, standing positions didn’t quite work, and although Toto was strong enough to hold you up while getting down and dirty, the slippery soap had resulted in not only a torn shower curtain and broken rod, but a few bruises to the both of you as well. You dry off quickly before responding.

**Doesn’t mean we couldn’t do other fun things in there. I like how your hands feel on my wet skin.**

**Tease,** he writes back almost immediately. **I’m sitting here half hard in this briefing and it’s your fault.**

**Only half? Guess I’d better work harder then.**

You drop the towel and toss your wet hair over your shoulder, cocking a hip as you cross an arm over your chest, making it appear as though you’re trying to protect your modesty when in reality the purpose of it is purely to be a tease. You take a picture in the mirror situated over the bathroom sink and you can’t help but admire the flush that your skin still holds from the hot water and the way it seems to glow from the lingering moisture. Your lips are quirked into a small smirk and you have to admit you’re pleased with the quick shot. You know it will have the intended effect. 

You send the message and place your phone down, promising yourself you’ll let him sweat it out for a bit before responding again. You quickly dry your hair and smooth on some lotion before beginning to get dressed. You hear your phone buzz with a notification and grin, wondering how many of his texts have so far gone unanswered and what that means for you later on in the evening. 

**Fucking hell. You look incredible.**

**You know exactly what you do to me. Mission accomplished.**

**I cannot stop thinking of the things I want to do to you later. Tell me you’ll let me do them all, please.**

**Start by putting you over my knee for torturing me like this. It’s driving me mad.**

**I’m going to have to sit here after this meeting is over and wait for everyone else to leave now. Can’t walk out like this.**

You grin at his messages, only spaced about 5 minutes apart from one another, with the most recent having just arrived. You set your phone back down for a moment and get dressed, pulling on the lingerie Toto requested you wear underneath simple black jeans and a blush blouse. The added heels dress the look up just enough that you feel comfortable yet sophisticated. 

You grab your purse before typing a response, ready to visit the hotel bar for a drink before Toto arrives back. A slight thrill runs through you just as you hit send, the excitement of what’s to come mounting higher and higher. You can’t wait. 

**You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.**

\---

Your phone is quiet while you sit at the bar and sip a glass of wine. Highlights from the race earlier in the day play on one of the small televisions behind the bar and you can’t help but grin when you see Toto celebrating the win with Lewis in Parc Ferme. The season had been a long and tough one and you had to admit that you were thankful for some upcoming downtime in London. In the off-season you would help cover some of the various Sim Racing events while planning for the next season. Despite the nature of “off season”, there was always work to be done within your field. You had been busy preparing proposals for pre-season focus pieces and you were excited to present them to management in the coming weeks. But in the meantime, it would be nice to enjoy some time away from the track, even if it meant less time wrapped up in Toto’s arms. 

You weren’t sure how the off-season would treat this relationship you’d created with the Mercedes boss. Part of you wanted to know what he thought of the two of you and whether or not he wanted to continue doing this outside of the work setting, and the other part would rather live in denial and let things happen as time rolls on. You weren’t sure which side would ultimately prevail. 

Lost in your thoughts, you startle when your phone vibrates on the bar top. You drain the last bit of wine in your glass, thankful that you’d already paid the tab. Before reading the text, you reach into your purse and pull out the tube of lipstick that you’d been wearing earlier in the day. You smooth a light layer of the color onto your lips and glance at the message.

**Room 1619. The door will be unlocked.**

You can’t help but smile on the elevator ride up to the 16th floor, trying to appear natural enough. You knew that Toto wasn’t the only member of the Mercedes team in this hotel, nor was his team the only one claiming this as home for the weekend. There could be a myriad of drivers, crew members, press, or fans around the hotel that could easily recognize you and wonder as to why you weren’t already in for the night. 

The potential for being caught sneaking into Toto’s hotel room only made the act that much more exciting. 

There wasn’t a soul in the elevator ride or the hallway leading to Toto’s room. You pushed the door open quickly and stepped in, taking a second glance down the hall before closing and locking it behind you. You could hear the shower running through the closed bathroom door so you set your purse down and walk to the large bay window that overlooks the track. Toto was right, the view from his room is gorgeous. The earlier flurry of activity on the track and in the paddock is nearly gone now, most teams having already packed up all their gear to head back home. The city lights twinkle beyond the track and you can’t help but appreciate for a moment the benefits of having the job that you do and the places it allows you to go and people you’re able to meet. 

You hear the shower shut off but you don’t allow it to pull you from your moment of reflection. These moments are rare and you want to enjoy them when they occur. You do turn when Toto emerges, a worn Mercedes t-shirt stretched across his chest and gray sweatpants slung low on his hips. 

“Well I feel overdressed,” you murmur as he approaches you. He cups your jaw in each of his hands, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that promises so much more is to come. 

“We can take care of that soon enough,” he whispers, “but first, I want to celebrate.” He reaches into the ice bin nearby that had gone unnoticed and pulls out a chilled bottle of champagne. 

“Champagne? And that's the good stuff too! What is it that we’re celebrating?”

His eyes seem to sparkle as he smirks. “What _aren’t_ we celebrating? A race win? End of the season? Championships?” He pours two glasses and passes one to you, lifting his in a toast. He locks eyes with you, his face warm and happy. “How about - to us.”

“Us? Toto, you had one of the best seasons of your career, I didn’t have anything to do with that. We should be toasting to you and the team.”

“But you helped get me through it. Wouldn’t have made it this far without you. But I’ll concede and agree with you, so the toast is to us, together, and our accomplishments.” You clink your glasses gently before taking a sip. Toto sets his glass on the nearby table, gesturing for you to do the same. He pulls you against his chest, both of you facing the night outside. You’re 16 stories up and the dimness of the hotel room makes you appear as nothing more than nameless silhouettes to any viewer who would happen to glance your way, but the thrill of revealing your relationship with this man so brazenly to the entire world makes your toes curl in delight. 

Toto wraps his arms around your waist and dips down to rest his chin on your shoulder, the heels on your feet preventing him from needing to stoop too far. You stand in silence for a moment, enjoying the embrace of one another. “So an off-season in the sun and sand, hmm?” Toto murmurs against the skin at your neck, deftly unbuttoning the column of buttons that adorn the back of your blouse. It takes you a second to remember what he’s referencing, too distracted by his motions against your spine. He unbuttons the shirt completely, pushing it forward off of your arms, leaving you in just your jeans and bra. You catch the shadowy reflection of the two if you in the dark window and can’t help but moan softly at the sight. 

“Don’t forget the drink in my hand,” you respond, head falling back to rest against his chest. 

He laughs against your shoulder and the sound rumbles through you. “I think a drink can be managed. Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere with you,” you sigh. You can’t kid yourself, you don’t want this to end. So you take a leap and admit it to him, admit that you want more than sneaky track paddock kisses and quick hotel hookups. 

“Vacation together, that’s a big step.” You watch his hands at the waistband of your pants, fingers working towards the small button and zipper. “Gonna let me take you to a nice little seaside resort? Get our own private beach so you can lay in the sun completely bare for me?” He eases the button open and begins sliding the zipper down slowly. “Spread you out and fuck you in sand, show off my good girl to anyone who may be watching?”

“Ye-yes. I want that.” His fingers dip into your jeans, fingertips ghosting over the lace of your panties. 

“Only problem is that today… well today, you weren’t exactly a good girl, were you?” 

Your hips rock forward as you desperately seek some form of pressure on your throbbing core. His fingers stay where they are, trapped within the confines of your pants but somehow still keeping space between his skin and where you need him most. He runs the very tips of his fingers teasingly against the seam that rests where your groin and thigh meet. Suddenly his large hand cups your mound tightly and squeezes, the pressure enough to make you gasp. 

“I asked you a question,” he growls low in your ear. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

“No.” You try to roll your hips again but his grip is too strong and you do little more than simply struggle. 

“No, what?”

“No, Daddy,” you sigh, your cheeks burning in a bit of shame and even more excitement. “I was a bad girl today.”

“What made you a bad girl?” He moves his hand to the top of your panties, _finally_ slipping his fingers beneath the lace. He leaves them there, motionless, waiting for your response. 

“I sent you naughty pictures while you were working,” you say softly, knowing that if you want him to move, to touch you, now is the time to be good. 

“You did do that,” he says, dipping his fingers slightly lower but still so far from where you want him. “What do you say to Daddy?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you whisper, barely able to think straight because his fingers are right _there_ and you just need a little bit more— “Please,” you whine, bucking your hips, and his hand is instantly gone. 

“Take off your pants. I want to see this set that you have had me thinking about all day.”

He sits down on the edge of the bed, leaning on his arms behind him. You want nothing more than to climb on and ride him until you physically can’t anymore, but you have a feeling that that part of the fun will come soon enough. And hopefully you will to. 

You slip the heels off before sliding the jeans down your hips and off of your legs. You toss them near your discarded blouse and glance at Toto before looking back to your shoes. 

“Put them back on,” he demands, “and come stand here in front of me.”

You slide the shoes back on as he watches and move to stand within the space that his spread legs have created. You move to cross your arms over your chest and he clucks his tongue, taking your hands in his.

“Do you have any idea how stunning you look all dressed up? Do a little turn, I want to see it all.” You do as he asks, blushing at his praise. “All this for me?” When you’re facing him again he finally touches your bare skin, running his hands up your waist and rib cage, lightly over your covered breasts, and leaves them to rest on your shoulders. One hand moves to your jaw where he grips and guides you towards him, forcing you further into his space. “Kiss me.”

You don’t hesitate at his command, surging forward to capture his lips in yours once again. You expect him to take over and deepen the kiss, to begin taking whatever it is that he wants from you because you’ll more than willingly give it to him. But he simply holds you close and lets you kiss him slowly, one hand on your shoulder and the other sliding around your jaw to hold onto the area where your ear and neck meet. The warmth of his large hand makes you moan into the kiss and he gently pulls away, smirking at the confused look on your face due to his sudden absence.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you breathe, already leaning back towards him, desperate for more. 

“Now, now” he says, keeping the distance between you with a bit of pressure from the hand at your neck. The sensation makes your eyes blink close for a moment and when you open them again, the smirk on Toto’s face is even wider. “ _Little minx_ ,” he whispers, almost to himself. “I don’t think you’ve learnt enough of a lesson after your bad behavior today. You could’ve gotten us both into a lot of trouble.”

“Just wanted you to want me,” you confess, the honesty in your words surprising to even you. Toto’s grin softens as he takes your hand in his and moves it to his crotch where the sweatpants he wears have been hiding any evidence of his arousal. You gasp in surprise when you can feel him, hard and heavy in your hand. He can’t help the twitch of his hips as you grind your palm over him.

“You think I don’t want you, love? You’ve been on my mind all day. I wanted to fucking sprint out of that briefing when you sent that picture of you fresh out of the shower. Then when you didn’t respond, all I could think about was the possibility that you couldn’t wait for me and you were getting yourself off alone, without me. That made me want you so much worse, made me think of all the things I want to do with you. You have no idea at all what you do to me.” He punctuates his words by pulling you in for another kiss, this one much more searing and desperate than the ones before. “Fuck, come here.” He pulls you forward onto his lap and you straddle his hips, rocking against him as he continues kissing you. 

“Tell me,” you whisper against his lips, “tell me all the things you thought of doing.”

His hand comes down suddenly on your left butt cheek, the shock of it making you gasp into his lips. “That picture you sent this morning, of your ass in these, made me want to spank you until you cried. Wanted to punish you for getting me fired up right there in the garage.” He smacks at the same spot once more, making you arch into him. He grabs at the now-warm skin, massaging it in his hands before laying two more smacks to the same side, a bit gentler than before, and you moan as the sensation teeters on the fine line between pleasure and pain. You grind down on his hardness below you, desperate for some kind of friction to ease the ache inside of you that is already so close to unraveling and he hasn’t even _done_ anything to you yet.

“And then you all but ask me to choke you in front of my driver and all of our coworkers and I had to drag you away and have a taste of you.” His hands grip your hips and help you move against him, letting his own small moan escape at the circle of your hips.

“Want you to,” you gasp, hitting a particularly perfect point of pressure, “please, Toto.”

He moves a hand from your hip to your neck and you whine, working your hips faster. Toto laughs as though he’s not as far gone as you are, applying the slightest bit of pressure with his fingers, being mindful to squeeze the sides of your neck rather than the front. “Desperate for it, aren’t you sweetheart? Gonna cum just from rubbing up against me? Think I should let you? Think you deserve it?” 

You nod your head quickly, hips bucking in short rhythmic movements that will send you flying over the edge of your orgasm any second now. 

“Well, I don’t think so,” Toto says and you almost miss his words as he lifts you up off him and flips you over onto the other side of the bed. He sits up to remove his shirt and only allows you a moment to admire the pale skin and dark chest hair before he moves to hover over you. “I think, since you seem to be so keen on teasing, it’s only fair that you get a little taste of your own medicine.” 

He kisses your lips before moving down, ghosting his lips over your chin, your jawline, your ears. When he arrives at your neck you moan loudly and you can feel him smile against your skin. “Sensitive little peach, aren’t you?” He skims the lightest kisses down the column of your throat as you pant to try to regain control of your breathing. His touch is overwhelming and frustrating at the same time. “Smell incredible too,” he murmurs, nosing at your collarbone, “like a warm vanilla cookie.” His tongue darts out and licks a stripe across your skin down the swell of your cleavage and you arch up against him. He meets your eyes and smiles. “Taste like one too.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his absurdity. “I do not taste like a cookie.”

“Maybe not here,” he says lowly, licking a similar strip up the opposite side of your cleavage, “but here—“ 

You gasp when his fingers suddenly dip into your panties and your exhale turns into a moan as he finally - _finally_ \- slides his middle finger through your soaked slit, down to where you’re dripping. The pleasure of his touch is short lived as his hand disappears and you lift your gaze to see what the problem is only to see him slide his finger into his mouth with a grin. “Just like I thought, sweet as can be. Been waiting to taste you all day.”

You toss your head back as his hand slides back underneath the lace, fingers dipping to collect some of your wetness before swiping over your clit in small circles that he knows will get you there in no time, though the pace he sets is torturously slow. 

“Please,” you pant, “please let me cum.”

His head hovers near your ear, words quiet but fierce as he stills the movement of his hand. “Someone is forgetting her manners. Please what?”

“Please, Daddy, please,” you nearly sob.

“Good girl,” he hums, moving his hand down and swiftly sliding two fingers into you, pumping them quickly. “Alright baby, come on, want you to cum for Daddy.”

A few quiet moments pass, the only sounds in the room are a mix of your pants and the obscene noises that are coming from where Toto is gradually making you come undone. Your orgasm swells and slams into you, your back arching and legs tensing as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Toto slows his fingers, coaxing more and more shudders from your body as he helps prolong your release. 

He leans in to kiss you again and you whine as he removes his fingers, hands working to pull your now-messy panties from your hips. He slides them down your legs and you kick them and the high heels off. He reaches for the straps of your bra at your shoulders, pulling them down as he kisses the slight indentations left behind by the elastic. He easily undoes the clasp of the bra and throws it across the room.

Standing up, he looks down at you, already blissed out and pliant for him. While he takes in his fill of you, you’re allowed your own moment of adoration as you take in his broad chest, strong arms, and taut midsection. _How did we get so lucky,_ you think to yourself.

Toto reaches for the waistband of his pants but you interrupt him. “Wait. I wanna do it. Can I?” you ask, rising to your knees on the bed. 

“Can’t say no to that,” he smirks.

You shuffle towards him, his height making it easy to kneel on the bed while also being able to reach his waist. You reach for his sweatpants but he stops you with a light hand on your chin leading his lips to yours. He kisses you hungrily and you let yourself get lost in the slide of his tongue against yours.

“Gorgeous lips,” he comments gruffly. “Gonna use them on me?”

“Want me to?” you ask, pulling his boxers and sweatpants down his hips, watching as his cock bounces free. You reach for him as he edges forwards, both inhaling sharply as you take him into your hand. There’s no doubting his desire for you now. He’s hard as a rock and his head is an almost-angry red, leaking pre-cum at the slit.You stroke him gently for a moment before readjusting so you can lay on your stomach on the bed and prop yourself up on your elbows. 

You take him into your hand and allow saliva to gather in your mouth for a moment. You know that he expects you to be teasing and coy, so you do the opposite and take him into your mouth suddenly, working the moisture in your mouth around him to help smooth the glide. 

“Scheiße,” he swears, the German word making you smirk around his length. It wasn’t often that you surprised him into speaking his mother tongue, but it was always a treat when you could force them out of him. You pull back, leaving just the tip of him in your mouth to suckle at for a moment before descending again. 

Toto moans increase in volume and he buries in hands in your hair. He doesn’t pull or force but just uses his tight grip to hold you as you move up and down his length. When you add a hand in to cover and jerk the few inches of him that just won’t fit in your mouth, he pulls your head away with a fierceness that makes you moan.

“Not gonna,” he gasps, “fuck, not gonna last long if you keep that up.” You lean in towards his cock again, wanting him to let you use your mouth to get him off, but he holds you by his grasp at the base of your neck. “I want to cum in that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Can I ride you? Please, Daddy?”

Toto pauses and closes his eyes for a second, almost overwhelmed by your words. “Yeah, baby, you can.”

Toto moves to stretch out on the bed and you can’t help but giggle when you see that his feet are nearly hanging off the end. “Almost too big for the bed.”

“I’d fuck you on the floor if I had to,” he growls as you climb on top of him.

“And you called me desperate,” you grin, leaning down over him to kiss him again. 

“Truth is, I’m always desperate for you. Can’t get enough.” 

You both moan as you grind your bare pussy against his length, the teasing both too much and not enough all at once. You rock back and forth for a moment, head tossed back as you enjoy the smooth slide of his skin against yours. 

You reach down between the two of you to position him at your entrance, too desperate for your own release to continue teasing him. “I’m— I need—“

“I know, I know,” says gently, holding your hips steady above him, “I’ve got you.”

You slowly lower yourself down his length, relishing in the stretch of his size. He holds your hips to support your pace but you can tell that it’s affecting him just as much as you by the way he’s working to keep his breathing even. 

“Oh, fuck,” you sigh, the word coming out more like a moan as you settle into his lap, his cock reaching deliciously deep inside you.

His mouth hangs open as he watches you, pressing his hips up against yours to coax another moan from your lips at the increased pressure. His hands leave your hips and come to rest behind his head, eying you hungrily. “Go on then,” he nods. “Fuck me.”

You place your hands on his chest and rise up his length until the tip of him is all that’s left inside of you before slowly sliding yourself back down. You can feel every inch of him filling you up and this slow pace forces every other thought but him and how he feels from your mind. 

You rock your hips backwards on each thrust down, pressing your clit against his pubic bone for more friction. Heat burns low in your belly and you increase the speed of your movements.

Toto chuckles, watching you take exactly what you need from him. “Gonna use my cock to make yourself cum?”

You can’t do much more than nod as he reaches up to pinch one of your nipples gently. You clench around him and your rhythm falters at his attention, the combined sensations too much to focus on. 

“Can tell you’re close.” His hand at your nipple slides up your chest and across your collarbone, fingers closing around your neck once again. “Want you to cum on my cock. Look so pretty, fucking yourself like this, like you can’t get enough of me. Can you cum for Daddy?”

You nod again, still unable to form words as you work against him harder, movements now frantic with need. “Please, Toto, I need—“

“My little pet needs Daddy’s help, doesn’t she,” he chides, and your cheeks burn with a delicious mix of pleasure and embarrassment. 

“Please,” you beg, just needing _something_ more from him but not knowing what, desperate now to just cum again. He relents, gripping your hips tight to thrust up into you, meeting your downward stroke each time. One of his hands strays, thumb coming between your legs to deftly swirly tight circles around your clit.

“C’mon love, let me have it,” he urges, and the sound of his gravelly, strung out voice is all you need to be hurtled over the edge.

You can’t help but shout as your orgasm rocks through you, body going still as the pleasure spreads from the center of your body all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes. Toto shifts below you, gently rocking into you to draw it out as long as he can and you gasp with each minute movement of his hips. You let yourself fall down forwards onto him, both of your chests heaving from the exertion. You chuckle against his skin, dazed and happy, pressing open-mouthed kisses to anywhere you can reach.

“You’re going to kill me,” he says, his voice mixed with awe and arousal. 

“But what a way to go,” you murmur against his throat, biting a small hickey into a spot of skin you know will be covered by his shirt collar. “Want your cum, Daddy. Please?”

“Fucking hell,” he growls as he grips your hips to roll you over, his cock staying sheathed deep in you the entire time. “Where’d you get such a dirty mouth?” He looms over you, arms supporting himself on either side of your head, his massive stature making you feel very dwarfed underneath him. 

“You like it,” you gasp as he sets a hammering, fast pace. Each thrust would have you scooching up the bed if it wasn’t for his grip on your shoulders. 

“I love it,” he bites out. “Love when you look like an innocent angel at work but I know what you’re really like.”

“And what’s that?” You can feel another orgasm brewing and listening to Toto say the naughtiest things always gets you there faster than anything else. 

He lowers himself to his forearms, his body on top of yours completely. The new angle and added pressure are perfect and you swear at the sensations.

His lips are near your ear when he speaks, his voice rough. “A little slut.”

“Oh fuck,” you cry as he thrusts harder, hitting a spot within you that makes you see stars. “Only a little slut for you,” you pant, “please Toto, I’m gonna cum again.”

“My little slut, all mine.” 

“Yours,” you respond, as the tension inside of you snaps and you moan and sag below him with the overwhelming feeling of another orgasm, legs falling wide open as he continues to fuck you roughly. 

“Feels so fucking good when you cum on my cock,” he grunts, his thrusts fast and vicious as he chases his own release. “Fuck, I’m gonna—“

“Wanna feel it, please Daddy,” you whine, shaking and overstimulated but still desperate to feel him fill you up.

His thrusts turn sloppy before he suddenly stills inside of you and you can feel his cock twitch within you as he moans out a choked _“Fuck_.”

He lets himself lay against you completely, careful to not completely crush you. The sound of both of your ragged breathing is the only noise in the room. You brush the now-sweaty hair that’s fallen over his forehead back to brush a kiss against his temple. His breathing evens a bit and he looks up at you with a smile, repeating the action to you.

“You’re okay? I wasn’t too rough?”

“Was perfect,” you sigh, rotating your hips slightly to hear him hiss. “Kinda liked it when you called me a slut.”

“Christ,” he swears and you can feel him twitch where he’s still buried within you. “You’re literally going to kill me. I’m not that young anymore.” 

You giggle as he shifts and then whine as he slowly pulls out before standing, the emptiness a stark contrast to how full he makes you feel. He grabs his boxers from the floor and walks to the bathroom leaving you to stretch out on the warm sheets.

Toto returns a few minutes later with a wet wash rag and gently nudges your knees open again before reaching down to gently clean you up. You thank him before taking the rag and standing up from the bed, legs slightly unsteady. You pick up Toto’s discarded t-shirt before making your way to the bathroom.

When you return, Toto has pulled the sheets back and is settled into one side of the bed. You glance around the room for your clothes as Toto watches you.

“What are you doing?” he asks as you reach for your jeans, unable to find your panties.

“Oh, I was going to go back to—“

“Come here,” he demands, patting the empty side of the bed next to him. You drop the jeans and join him, cuddling into his side as he shifts to allow your head to rest on his chest. “Thought you’d want to stay here with me.”

“We haven’t done that before.” 

“I want you to,” he responds. “That is, I’d like it very much if you wanted to stay.”

“Okay,” you smile against his skin, “I’ll stay.”

“Besides, we’ve got a vacation to plan.”

You can’t help but look up to him in surprise at that. “Really?”

He shrugs, pulling you a bit closer. “I don’t want to go the entire off-season without seeing you. And no,” he chuckles, noticing your opening mouth, “a quickie in my office at the factory back home does not count.” He pauses for a moment in thought. “I want to do this the right way with you, if you’d like to do it with me.”

You look at him for a moment before smiling. “Okay. The right way it is.”

Toto kisses you once more, sweet and gentle, and tucks your head under his chin. You can’t help but fall asleep with a smile on your face.

——

The next morning, you wake up to Toto’s alarm blaring from the nightstand. He bats at it with one hand before it silences. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice husky from sleep, “I forgot that I’m on the early flight out today.” He bends down to kiss you quickly before climbing out of bed.

“S’okay,” you mumble, rolling into the warm space he’s vacated. “I don’t leave until this afternoon but we have some post to work on so I’ll stay busy.”

He heads towards the bathroom. “Stay there and sleep a bit longer. I’ve just got to shower quickly.”

“Sure you don’t want me to join you?” 

He laughs and the sound makes you smile. “Next time, love.” 

The sliver of light shining from below the bathroom door makes the cool room feel cozy and you slip back to sleep easily.

When you wake up again, Toto is already dressed in one of his standard Mercedes-branded white button down shirts and black dress pants. He moves around the room quietly, packing belongings into his duffel case. 

He notices you rubbing the sleep from your eyes and kneels next to the bed. “You can stay here if you want,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead. 

You stretch your arms above you and can see him trace the movements of his t-shirt over your skin. “Everything I need is back in my room. Thank you though,” you say before catching his lips in another kiss. 

He stands and moves towards the closet and you follow, reaching for your jeans that are crumpled on the floor.

He grabs you as you near him, pulling you into a searing kiss with his hands on your bare ass, pulling you close to him. “I like seeing you wake up in my t-shirts.”

“I like seeing _you_ when I wake up,” you retort with a grin, “and I think this is _my_ t-shirt now.”

“All yours,” he concedes as you glance around for your bra and underwear. “Looking for these?” He’s got them both in his hand, poised above his duffel bag. “I think that, for this to be a fair trade, I’ll keep these.”

“I think they might look a bit better on me, but you’re welcome to wear them if you’d like.”

He laughs as you pull your jeans on. “I’m just holding onto them for you until next time.”

“If you say so,” you laugh, excited that he’s eager to keep something of yours as a momento as well. You reach for your purse as Toto zips his bag closed, suddenly a bit unsure of how saying goodbye will go. You ease your fast-traveling thoughts, reassured by the notion that this _isn’t_ “goodbye”, but rather a “ _see you soon”_.

Toto reaches for you before he’s opened the hotel room door, sweeping you into a hug that knocks the air from your lungs. He uses a hand at your jaw to hold you as he kisses you and any anxiety you had at the possibility of not being able to make this work disappears. He steps away carefully, like he’s got the same worries you had. 

He opens the door and you step out first, only turning to look back at him when you feel him pause in the doorway. You take a step towards him and stand on your tiptoes and pull him down into one last kiss in the open door frame, wanting to give him the same reassurance he’d just given you. Behind you, a door down the hall opens and closes and you pull away from Toto’s lips, but wrap your arms tighter around his neck in a tight embrace, not really caring who sees the two of you. 

“Oh, shit, sorry,” a voice behind you says, and you recognize it immediately.

“George,” Toto says in greeting. You pull away from Toto to glance at George over your shoulder, your cheeks hot. Toto looks at him over your head and smirks, raising his eyebrows in question. 

George stares at you for a second, then at Toto, and then makes a zipping motion over his lips before “locking” them. He mimes throwing the key over his shoulder before continuing quickly down the hall, shaking his head. 

“I’ll talk to him later,” Toto says with a chuckle. He pulls you closer into the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Call me when you get home, alright?”

“Can I text you before then too?”

He laughs and kisses your forehead then your lips, tempting you to push him back inside and continue saying your goodbyes later. “Call, text, send a carrier pigeon, anything. I’ll always be here for you.”

You blush at his words, his adoration. “See you soon then, Daddy,” you whisper to Toto, excited already to see him again once you’re both home. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> Holy crap, my first writing piece in years. Why not go balls to the wall with it and write 10k of Toto smut with a bit of daddy issues to celebrate our favorite team principal’s birthday?
> 
> This self-insert isn’t written to be exclusionary, it’s just my preferred style! I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance! 
> 
> In this (clearly alternate) world that I’ve made up, Susie doesn’t exist, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate the real her or respect her relationship with Toto.
> 
> Anyways! Thank you for reading! My love language is words of affirmation so any feedback is appreciated! (This piece was originally published to tumblr on 12 January 2021. I am moving my works to ao3 for the sake of protecting them.)


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